Coastways colored my vocabulary

Like so many others in this family, I grew up at Coastways.  Coastways colored my vocabulary from the very beginning.  Having the view out over the water, the point, and the island gave me "There are cumulus clouds on the horizon," uttered at around three years of age to Marion Russell, who was bowled over because (of course) there were.  Sitting on Hank Senior's lap as he read the Wall Street Journal gave me more.  "What are you making, Skye?" asked my mom when I was a toddler.  "I'm building a stock market!" said I.  The plants around the house gave me still more.  At about two and a half, Marjorie from Pescadero School came to see if I was verbal enough to enter preschool.  I picked her a flower and gave it to her.  "That's pretty, Skye!  What is it?"  "It's a pelargonium."  "A what?"  "A pelargonium."  "What did you say??"  "IT'S A PE-LAR-GO-NI-UM!"  Needless to say, Marjorie decided I was verbal enough to go to preschool.  Hanging out with my dad as he made the rounds of trails and gopher traps gave me peromyscus (the little white-bellied field mice that were sometimes accidentally caught), oxalis, chert, amanita calyptroderma, king bolete...  Gardening with Betty gave me fraise du bois, diorama, chanterelle, acanthus, agapanthus...  These words aren't merely words; they spring from the place and people that formed me.  Coastways is a part of me; I am part of it.    

-Skye Daniels (granddaughter of Dorothy Atkins Hudson)

Memories of a Lifetime

How to condense the memories of a lifetime? My family brought us down to the ranch for many summer stays and family reunions as kids, and we never wanted to leave. When the time came we’d hide in the avocado trees thinking no one could find us there. I believe my mother probably knew, but was glad of the delay herself.

As I got older, the whole life of Coastways became part of me, going up to the orchard with my Uncle Hank in the evening dusk as he scattered fish food across the orchard pool, seeing the trout rise and the water ripple around them, and following my Aunt Betty out to give grain to her cows. She would name them alphabetically, first in English, then in Spanish. The name I still remember was ‘Dinner Bell’ It all had such an influence on my young life.

Since that time the many trips back continue to become a part of me. Family and friends who gathered there, memories of staying in the old Guest Cottage, singing songs late into the night, and when it got really late, my friend Pauli and I would go out and sing harmonies on the bench outside. On one of these late nights, an owl swooped down and sat on a post nearby. It was a magical moment.

I’ve loved being able to return and stay in what is now the guest wing….getting up around five in the morning, sitting on the deck watching the fog roll back until the sun finally hit the island, then falling to sleep at night while the sound of the seals barking would drift across the water.

I think the strongest feeling was that of family. All the cousins, and the friends of cousins who over time became like family. At an early Pysanky Party, one couple, friends of Stephanie, brought their new baby. Each year after, I saw her grow, and on my last visit to ‘do eggs’ she had become a young woman and a fine bag piper. At dusk, she stood out on the deck, the sound of her pipes bringing the day into night.

My hope now is that generations to come, their friends, their families, and all the many visitors to Coastways, can continue to have that connection to the place we have been so lucky to have in our family. 

- Dorothy (daughter of Susan Atkins de Fremery)

The Beauty of the Land and the Warmth and Kindness of the People

Eli Hudson became friends back in college and our bond remains strong through the years. When she met Sarah, it was clear there was a deep and loving bond between them. When I was asked to officiate their wedding, I was simultaneously humbled and thrilled. Their wedding was held on a gorgeous autumn day at Cosatways. My Mother traveled up from Long Beach for the ceremony. As participant in the ceremony, I had the great fortune to spend two days at Coastways and visit the nearby beach. My memories of the beauty of the land and the warmth and kindness of the people remain vivid. It's my sincere wish that y'all are able to continue caring for the land and allowing others to enjoy its beauty. 

- Todd Swindell (family friend)

Early Family Memories

The first memories that come to mind are at around age 12, when Uncle Hank tossed the keys to the jeep to me. We were on the beach and he was off to start his regular conversation with some "visitors." ("You don't know me, but I'm your host.") To me, he just said, "The cliff's on that side; the ocean's on the other. Just stay in between them." That was my first driving lesson!

And when we'd stay at the guest cottage. (the de Fremery family) Me and Dorothy would eat breakfast just as fast as we could, so that when we heard Uncle Hank driving by we could run out and climb in the back. (In those days he was just "Hank"; the present Hank was Henry back then.) We might head for New Year's Creek, where he'd measure something and make notes in his little book. Next to the pump house in the reservoir; again he'd measure something and jot it down. Sometimes out to the Fitch cabin, just checking things, or to the beach, in case any overnight campers needed a little chat. It didn't matter where we went; we just were in glory riding in the back of the jeep.

Then there was sand-sledding, out on Año Nuevo point. Just a flat board "sled" with braces for our feet, and a rope to hang on to that was fixed to the back of the model A or jeep. (It was before the point became a park.) We'd whoosh over  sand dunes, hanging on and screaming, and if we stayed on too long, David would go to certain measures to knock us off, like side-swiping into the ocean! Good times!

Then there were the snipe hunts, in the dark. And of course the "kids' room" or maybe the "cousins' room" at Thanksgiving dinners in the old house. One intrepid aunt, usually Betty, & one uncle would sit with us.  I remember seeing how much we could cram into our mouths; David usually won that hands down.

Years before the music after meals, there were soccer games on the big lawn, between dinner and dessert. As I got a little older, it switched to international folk dancing, including of course the "Salty Dog Rag." I got to dance with Woody once; that was a highlight for a youngster like me!

We had great times with Betsey, in the old Bradley house. She had a book of plays that we would pass around, each reading a part or more. I remember especially "The Man Who Came to Dinner." Another memory from the Bradley house; there was at least one spectacular water fight. It must have been David who got up on the roof with a hose, and soaked us all!

And "time trials" with the model A, racing around the farm buildings. I guess there wasn't such a drought then; we used plenty of water in the low spots so that the driver really slid around corners. Fixing that car was a lesson in ingenuity, usually involving duct tape and old coat hangers or some kind of wire. Driving around the ranch roads with David at the wheel was a real adventure, noisy! He'd holler, "We'll all be killed!" and however many of us kids were in back would scream, and hang on all the tighter.

Living in Maine, my trips to the ranch became a sad bit scarcer, but I remember being so glad Rebecca & Eli chose Coastways for their wedding; we couldn't miss that! What a joy, to see Maine friends soaking up the beauty of the ranch. There were work projects, especially the water tank behind "Aunt Sue's house," now Tim's house. And fixing Tim's steps; it's great to have such a handy husband! When we heard recently about houses needing roof jobs, we thought how much fun that would be, to just fly out there for a week or two (or three?) to do that work. (Unfortunately, COVID-19 squelched our flying idea.)

I'm forever grateful to have had Coastways in my life! Our prayer is that, as our kids have precious memories of the ranch and relatives, our grandkids will also. "Huic loco Deus omnia dedit" translated "To this place, God gave everything." 

- Mary (daughter of Susan Atkins de Fremery)

The Abundance of Coastways

Coastways means abundant wildlife

So many birds, their songs and raucous calls wake me in the morning.
So many whales, spouting and cavorting for our viewing pleasure.
So many elephant seals, crying and sounding, audible over the whole property.
So many sea stars, clinging to exposed rocks at low tide.
So many newts when it rains that I must watch my step.
So many frogs, some nights climbing the windows, their little bellies and toes flattened against the glass.
So many banana slugs, their implausibility thrilling every small visitor.
So many wild blackberries, a delightful summer treat along the trail, but frustratingly thick and thorny the rest of the year.
So many snakes, tails receding to either side of the path, just ahead of my progress.
So many nasturtiums, Betty’s “nasty-urtiums,” offering their bright peppery flowers, but quietly plotting to dominate the property.
So many foxes, watching me watch them.
So many huckleberries, for those with the luck of timing and the intrepitude for a hike to the chalks.
So many poison oak thickets, deterring the city visitors.
So many butterflies, I’ll never identify them all.
So many wild iris, reclaiming the logging roads in the woods.
So many unexpected surprises - the giant salamander, the short-tailed weasel, the parasitic coralroot orchid, the wandering blue grosbeak.
So many ceanothus bushes, blooming blue and fragrant in the spring.
So many Monterey pines, and yet we are one of only five native stands of these threatened trees.
So many pocket gophers, eating more than their share of my garden.
So many great blue herons, hunting gophers.
So many skunks, industriously scavenging for avocados, stomping if I accidentally come to close.
So many coyotes, calling in the evening as they move across the fields on a hunt.

Coastways means abundant crops

So many artichokes, painful to wash, exquisite to eat.
So many avocados, and so many more, hopelessly out of reach.
So many olallieberries, staining small hands and beaming faces.
So many heritage apples, the really good ones you can’t get at the store.
So many kiwifruit, a welcome addition to winter’s limited bounty.
So many Christmas trees, such a joyful time selecting just the right one.
So many pumpkins, a witch on a bicycle, delighting customers with more than they can carry.
So many winter squash, must taste them all side-by-side to fully comprehend their differences.
So many strawberries, pickers bent double, ripe scent wafting on warm air.
So many rows of broccoli, cauliflower and celery, striping the landscape in alternating hues of leaf green.

Coastways means abundant family and friends

So many gatherings, a busy guest house, an unusually high concentration of family living within a day’s drive.
So many relatives, how many people can claim to know their fifth cousins?
So many new acquaintances responding “Yes, I know Coastways, I’ve picked berries there,” or “Isn’t that where the Bradleys live?”
So many engineer relations, solving all the infrastructure conundrums.
So many guests, in awe that we still have “the family farm” that so many others have lost.
So many weddings, the depth and wonder of this place making it the obvious choice, and such a happy chance to see so many.
So many ashes rest here, less happy, but grateful they are all here, still with us in a small way.

Coastways means abundant good times

So many evenings of music, and my, what music! International folk dance on the deck, bagpipes carrying across the orchard in the evening, fiddle tunes galore, elegant classical guitar, movie soundtracks on the piano, and laughing to so many of Hank’s original Greekish folk songs.
So many pot lucks, celebrating anything and everything, to the tune of good food.
So many Easter eggs, mysteriously appearing months after the hunt, reminding me of all the fun of that day.
So many works of art, inspired by the beauty here.
So many of Tim’s parties, some of you have been coming here a long time.
So many pre-Thanksgiving window washing parties, putting fun into the process of restoring full clarity to our breath-taking view.
So many work parties, proving that “many hands make light work.”
So many ecstatic kids, doing what kids do best.
So many reunions, so nice to see you all!

Coastways means abundant history

So many artifacts unearthed in my garden: forged nails (probably made here in our old blacksmith shop,) old silver spoons, an arm from a porcelain doll (perhaps my grandmother’s,) and the flyswatter gun I lost when I was eight.
So many furnishings, dating back to many past generations.
So many journals, meticulously noting the rainfall, the work of the day, who was present.
So many photographs - a herd of goats on the beach, the Atkins girls in white dresses climbing the cypress trees, construction of the reservoir, houses in much newer condition, beloved pets, relatives I know and those I never got to meet documented through time.
So many generations - there are six now - each discovering all for themselves the pleasures of Coastways, unknowingly walking in the well-worn footprints of all those who came before.
So many stories after the meal is over: Betty ridding herself of unwanted guests with an Astrachan apple or blue dye in the food, mischief with rabbits and rowboats, fun and games with the model A or Jeep and the usual gaggle of cousins, special methods of litter removal, ditch the twins, upstairs bathroom window encounter with a mountain lion, how the geraniums came to be here, sifting the beach sand for Caterpillar tools and parts, and so many, many more.

Coastways means abundant peacefulness

So many strolls on the beach, surf roaring, mind lost in the moment.
So many beach rocks to sort and ponder.
So many quiet moments, watching a bobcat and blue heron hunt side by side, a ladybug wandering about a leaf, the fog bank rolling in and out as the ocean breathes.
So many sunsets, every one a uniquely captivating experience.
So many stars (when there isn't any fog) thanks to our distance from the city lights.
So many lullabies - the crickets, the tree frogs, the various owls, the pounding waves.
So many squid boats, lights casting dancing shadows on the dark walls as I fall asleep.

So many instances where I simply have to stop what I am doing and look around me, dumbstruck with all the abundant fortune I enjoy, simply by being here, today, at Coastways. 

- Stephanie (grand-daughter of Dorothy Atkins Hudson)